Skin
by Lucrece01
Summary: I don't know how it began. He said he was special. Knowing the terrible things he had the power to command, I believed he was special. But that was no reason for me to believe that I was any less. I was gifted too and he knew it. That was probably why he had kissed me. There was no reason other than this... Fate makes mockery of us all.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

I ran.

From the moment that man's haunted eyes met mine, I knew I was in trouble.

I was in deep shit.

I could hear the thrumming sounds of my footsteps as they fell upon the cold hard ground.

I wished the darkness of night would devour me.

I ran from him.

His leering face at my state gave me impetus to flee.

I would not let another do this to me.

I had to fight.

I had to fucking save my life.

I turned the corners of the dingy alley. Everything was so dark. I could hear his footsteps behind me. Or was it two sets. I didn't know. Nor did I stop to find out as I fought against the strain in my chest. The cold wind gagged and choked my windpipe but I carried on.

Most of the shops were closed this time of the day. It was 3 p.m.

My ragged clothes did nothing to keep away the biting cold that crashed into my rough skin repeatedly.

They were closing in on me.

They were so fucking close.

_No_. I wouldn't let them catch me.

Not again.

I looked back, running on the streets of a shoddy part of London, hoping against hope that I would escape. I hoped I would.

"There she is!" I heard my pursuer shout. He was so close.

I turned a corner.

Too fucking close.

Not again.

I stumbled as my foot caught a rock and I fell down with a loud crash.

_No. No. No. No._

I felt like I must have sprained my foot and bruised my elbows. It was so cold. I felt the chill seep in through my torn clothing, the remnants of modesty that street life had allowed me, and I froze.

He had caught up with me.

He pulled me ups by hair and I struggled to get free of his reins but to no avail. The painful grip he had on my hair made me feel like the upper half of my head was going to be ripped off.

"Did you really think you could run away?" He threw me into a darker alleyway and I staggered. It was just one man. I could probably fight him off. I _would._

I moved quickly and jumped at him; punching every inch of the fucking bastard I could find and tried to knee him in the groin. He caught a few, probably not expecting my starved self to put up any fight against him, before he punched me in the stomach and I fell backwards. Still smarting from the blow, I crawled back, not willing to give up.

_Fight, Hermione._

_Fight him, damn it._

I kept telling myself, buying myself more time as I crept backwards, keeping my eyes trained on his every movement under the darkness. He was drunk.

Maybe I could still escape.

I would.

He stepped slowly, thinking he had me cornered and bent down but I spun my hand and hit him with as much force as I could muster. I got up quickly and ran without looking backwards even once.

_Did he follow me?_

I think so.

But I did not know as I turned another dark alleyway with my staggering feet.

How I had acquired enough strength to fight him off, I did not know.

I hadn't eaten in two days. My stomach twisted once more and I found that I could not run anymore. I panted harshly, my breath coming in short gasps as I leaned against an electricity pole and slumped down.

I had missed him.

I hoped I had.

There was some light, flickering randomly, lazily from the pole directly above me.

"Who are you?"

I jumped at the sound of his voice and tried to get up, willing to run but my legs gave out. I looked up. The dying light revealed the face of a most handsome boy who stood leaning against the wall opposite me. I gaped at his face for a while before I realised the precariousness of my situation.

_Was he another one of them?_

But he did not look threatening.

It did not look like he wanted to…

His gaze was indifferent as it swept over my tattered clothes and my bruised body.

I felt myself cringe in my own skin.

_"You bitch!"_

The sound came from the end of the alleyway.

He had not given up.

I was ready to cry.

But no.

Not yet.

I picked up the rest of my strength and got ready to run. I had only managed a few feet, slowly for I had not much left in my bones by this time, when he caught up with me. I caught a brief flash of the handsome boy as I fell down. He stood there, indifferent, as the bastard put his knee to my back so I could not move. I couldn't move anymore.

I struggled against him, futilely, for the position was impossible for me to do anything. But I did not scream or cry.

Screaming turns them on.

Crying makes them hard.

I struggled, yes, but I did not cry as I gave in to my fate.

"You've got some nerve," he growled in my ear, unmindful of the fact that we had an audience. To be honest, if no help was forthcoming, I'd rather we had no audience.

I wouldn't cry.

He stripped the top off my back and I felt a stab of cold hit my skin.

I would not cry.

Not this time.

Not again.

"Let her go."

The commanding certainty of that voice pierced through the haze of my consciousness. I felt the weight of the bastard lessen over me. It seemed like he had only just noticed there was someone else, watching…

Watching.

"Piss off, pretty boy." I heard the voice above me say and I tried to find a leeway, any opening so I could escape. I tried to see but the scoundrel had pressed my face into the ground. I tried to claw at his face but your hands could only reach so far behind you.

Suddenly, I felt the weight lift from above me and I heard a dull thud to my right side. I stayed in that position for a second before I jumped to my feet, ready to run again. But a hand grabbed my wrist and threw me against the wall.

It was him.

The handsome boy who hadn't bothered to help me.

But…

My eyes went to the opposite side of the alleyway and I found myself staring at a big lump of human flesh lying on the ground.

He was unconscious.

Or dead.

I didn't give a fuck.

"Who are you?" he asked me and I was suddenly aware of the fact that I wasn't dressed from waist up. His eyes never strayed down though. It wasn't like there would be much to see. I was malnourished and under fed. My bones showed through my skin at every place.

_If I did not say it before, I hadn't eaten in two days._

"Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine," I challenged.

A twisted smile crossed his lips and he looked like fucking _Lucifer._

The shadows flickered across his face.

"I sense the magic in your blood," he snarled. "And yet, overpowered by a mere _Muggle…_"

My head span at his words.

What the fuck was he talking about?

_Magic?_

_Muggle?_

I pushed him away.

Perhaps he was insane.

There were many of those in the streets these days.

It was never good to run into them either.

I grabbed by torn cloth from the ground and looked back at him. He stood unfazed.

His silver eyes gave me shudders. It was as if…

"Thanks for…" I left the words unfinished and took off, walking quickly so as to be able to run at a moment's notice.

I was relieved when he did not follow.

It was dark and I was hungry.

It was the way I lived.

It was the way I had lived for a long time now...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

"I couldn't find you last night, Mia." The little girl seated across the small table pouted at me. I looked at her trembling lower lip and beckoned her into my arms. She hopped down the small stool and climbed into my lap as I enclosed her in my thin arms. She was my world at the moment.

I coaxed her into eating a few vegetables off my plate. Seated as we were in a shady, disgusting eatery in one of the less fortunate neighbourhoods of London, nobody paid much attention to our worn out clothes or the dirt that clung to them.

It was only a stroke of good fortune that had allowed us the luxury of eating in a place like this. The night before, I had stumbled across a man's fallen wallet. It had his address and name in it, along with fifty pounds. They would keep us from starving for many, many days to come.

And no matter what happened to me, I would never let the tiny four year old go hungry if it was within my power to provide her with something. I would offer her my flesh, sparse and thin as it was, if nothing else materialised. I did not know what evoked such fiercely protective responses in me wherever she was concerned. After all, I hadn't known her for longer than a month. I suppose it was the simple fact that she too had nowhere to go.

_Just like me_.

I had found her abandoned in one of the streets. She knew nothing of where she came from. Reluctantly, she had taken a liking to me and me to her. We had no home, it was true. A war raged on and the Government had implemented a policy of what they referred to as _rationing_. It left us with very little to survive on and no shelter at all. So we stayed in abandoned parks, graveyard sites, dilapidated buildings and so on. It wasn't an ideal situation but had to make do.

With the money that luck had thrown our way, I was resolved to find some work and at least provide us with a roof over our heads. I was resolved to act as soon as I could.

"Where were you?" she asked as I stroked her dirty blonde hair. She was so adorable, even with all the filth clinging to her and the manner in which we were forced to live.

"I was… out, looking for work, Isa," I answered. Isabella. That was what I called her. She hadn't known her own name. She knew nothing about herself. There would always be a morose, brooding expression on her face every time I questioned her about her parents and such. I gave up after a while.

I watched as she waddled out of my lap, and went back to her seat. Pink had returned to her cheeks and she looked slightly better than she had yesterday. I smiled at her as I forked my measly proportions of food. It was most probably inedible but it wasn't like we were going to get anything better.

* * *

I held her tiny hand tightly in mine as we walked out, keeping to ourselves. I did not have friends but I did know a few people who wouldn't back out of doing me a good turn for a price. I could leave Isa with one of them while I went to search for work. I had not high hopes. I did not have any employable skills.

I walked slowly, perhaps the food had caused my body to be surprised and it felt sluggish and surreal as I moved. Isa wasn't her usual chattering self either. I could only imagine how frightened she must have been in that run down mill without me to comfort her. It was what we called our temporary _home_. No one ventured in that area. For the time being, we had a semblance of shelter. I was lost in my forlorn musings when someone's shoulder brushed against mine and I stopped. I glanced cursorily at the boy with chiselled, Grecian features who had also stopped to look at me. _That _was a novel thing for me. Nobody, absolutely _nobody_ chanced a glance at me twice. I was simply _that_ ugly. I didn't care though.

I shrugged my thoughts off and started to move but the boy stopped me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and I flinched. _Why would he touch me?_ I did not know him.

"What do you want?" I turned to face him, hiding Isa behind the folds of my tattered skirt. She leaned closer into my legs and I pressed her small hand in what I hoped was a comforting gesture.

I was unnerved by the keen, calculating look he gave me. It filled my proverbial spine with shards of thin ice. His grey eyes were blank. I shuddered inwardly.

"I don't believe you thanked me properly for last night." He looked down at me, as if I was a being underneath him and I felt smaller and filthier under his gaze. _Last night? What was he speaking about? Thank him for what? I didn't even know him… _

"You're mistaken, _sir_. I believe you have me confused with someone else," I said as I took a step back and picked up Isa. She buried her face in my neck. I moved to walk off, with quick steps, but was surprised and alarmed when he followed.

It was not good.

I did not like how this was turning out.

I walked quicker but he was faster and I could only manage to keep up with Isa's weight upon me as well.

Finally, when I was sure that he wouldn't just leave off, I halted. He did too.

"Get away from us, Mister, or you will find that I can _bite _and claw filthier than I look!" I snarled viciously, from between my teeth but was taken aback at the unimpressed expression on the boy's face. My voice was hardened and trained to scare civilised people but he did not budge.

"You don't _remember_ yesterday?" He had this maddening, devious expression in his eyes and I stood frozen for a moment. His hands were buried deep inside his pockets as he looked at me, backed against a wall in the alleyway. Somehow, something about this was familiar… _All too familiar…_

_What was wrong with me?_

"I want to talk." I heard him announce, no, it was more like a _command. _

_Who the hell did he think he was? _I gave him a look of disbelief and loathing and shook my head before I moved on my way. I would find Randy and Cara. Hopefully, they'd take Isa for the day so I could deal with the swine that followed us.

Why did the privileged think they had all the rights in the world to exercise as and when they saw fit. They could maim, rape and murder people like me at will and get away with it. I knew it for a fact that they could. This boy seemed no different. I wished that he would leave.

But he didn't.

So much for _wishing._

Isa's weight began to add to my discomfiture but I couldn't possibly let her walk now. _What if the boy was after her?_

_What if he was one of those people who kidnapped children and forced them into depraved trades? _

No. I wouldn't risk it.

I walked quickly, taking turns after turns to reach my destination. By now, Isa had raised her head and begun to look inquisitively at the boy following us. I didn't turn. He followed but kept a distance. I could hear his footsteps echo behind me and never in my life had I been more scared. There was something about him that made your flesh creep.

I reached the corner of the alleyway around which lay a murky establishment called 'The Paradise'. It was a place that dealt in flesh trade and in there lived my closest acquaintance. Her name was Cara. I won't lie. Many a times when I had to go without food at nights, I had contemplated taking that path. There was enough money in it to keep body and soul together. It was ironic really, how a country going for cuts had ample amount of money to run places that catered to pleasure. I had thought of it. I had no qualms about it really. It was a trade just like any other. But something had made me stop. I didn't know what it was.

I walked to the side door, passing a charming smile to the door keeper. He was familiar to me and he nodded as I went in. I found Cara in her usual spot, nursing a bruised wrist whilst she sat on the bar stool.

"Cara," I said and passed her a small smile. She was pleased to see me, it seemed. She tilted her head towards a door in the shadows which I knew to be hers. It was not the one where she amused her customers, no. It was the room where she lived. She was the only person who had her own. She was, after all, the most sought after girl in 'The Paradise'. She locked the door behind us and I went to sit on her bed.

"I need you to watch Isa for the day," I replied to her questioning look. Isa tightened her hold around my neck.

"At a price." Cara pulled out a teddy from the cupboard beside her bed and placed it near us. _Of course._ Nothing was free in the streets.

Even friendship had its price.

But I could trust Cara to keep Isabella safe if I paid the right price. I knew I could.

"What do you want?" I shifted Isa's weight a bit and placed a kiss on her head before I set her down near the teddy. She didn't want to leave my lap but relented when she sensed that it was necessary. She was a smart girl.

"Two pounds," Cara spoke in a nonchalant tone. I nodded and handed her the notes. I noticed as her eyebrows shot up at the fact that I could afford it. We would have had to come to some other agreement if I couldn't have. But she would have found some way for me to pay her. She always did.

"I'll be back before ten at night," I told her and turned to Isabella. "Be a good girl, Isa. I'll come for you soon." I gave the little girl a small hug and ruffled her hair. I could see her eyes begin to water but she held back. She was a brave, strong girl. She had always been one.

The boy stood at the corner, leaning against the wall in an indifferent manner. It was as if he had no concern in the world, any joys or sorrows. His hands, buried deep in his pockets, gave one an impression that he hid something of value there. Or maybe I was simply paranoid. He looked at me with an impassive expression on his face when I walked out.

"What?'' I turned and pushed him viciously when he started to follow me once more. He caught my hands and I was surprised at how easily he had managed to not stagger backwards. I think I saw something feral flash in his eyes but it was gone as soon as I looked a second time. _Perhaps I had imagined it. _

"I said I wished to speak with you," he said in a low voice and I felt my heartbeat escalate. What was wrong with me? Was I afraid of this… _boy?_ I had face a lot worse than wayward teenagers and this was hardly anything compared to them. I pressed my lips. Maybe I'll just let him have his say and leave after that.

"Do you _really _not remember what happened yesterday?"

I looked at him in confusion. _What had happened yesterday?_ I had been accosted by one of the drunkards in an alleyway and I managed to get away in time. I narrowed my eyes at him. The intent look he gave me as he stared into my eyes was… painful. I felt a sharp sting hurt me as the back of my mind went blank. His eyes were so… horrible.

And beautiful.

_What the fuck was wrong with me?_

"I really don't have time for this," I shrugged his hands off me and made to move but he trapped me against the wall. He was so close. And now that I looked, I couldn't help admiring his beautiful features. I say beautiful because that was how he was. Handsome, yes. But beautiful too. His fathomless silver eyes turned upwards at the corner that gave him a mysterious look. His nose was straight, like it had been sculpted from the finest marble. His jaw was strong and as I looked, I could see the rippling waves of muscles crowd around his upper arm. I would lie if I said I wasn't… impressed.

"You need a place to stay, _don't you_?" He wiped some dirt off my neck and looked at it in fascination. The intensity of his gaze baffled me. That was not a question I had been expecting him to put forth. My suspicions grew in size and substance with each passing second.

"Aren't you a bit _young_ to indulge in _those_ kinds of things…?" I mocked him. He wiped the dirt on the wall beside me and sneered at the defiant stare I threw at him.

"I'll offer you a _shelter, clothing_," he said and continued, "and _food_ but not for the price you think."

"I don't need your _charity_." I growled at him, "I'll find a job. So if it wasn't clear before, _fuck off!"_ I pushed at him again, harder than before and was able to manoeuvre an escape. I think I heard a faint chuckle behind me as I walked away. Such insanity lived on the streets these days…

_I'll find a job_, I told myself as I walked away and was pleased to notice that he didn't follow. Perhaps he had got the point. _Good riddance_. And yet, I couldn't help that distinct nagging feeling at the back of my mind that he was oddly, sinisterly _familiar_. My mind was playing tricks with me.

* * *

I went and sat on the park bench and heard the dying sounds of the day. I was defeated. I couldn't find a fucking job. Nobody, absolutely nobody would hire me. Well, except for those indulging in the flesh trade. I had known this before, of course. _Hadn't I tried it a million times before?_ Going through the same task of daring to hope only to have them dashed against the sharp rocks time and again. _Wasn't that one of the reasons why Isa and I had to go hungry most of the times?_ And to top it all, I had had my money snatched away from me when I had tried to buy myself a job in the kitchens of a drudge restaurant as a scullery maid. The owner had smirked when I had protested. He had had me thrown into the streets, claiming that I had stolen the money from him.

_Stupid, stupid, Hermione! You should have known that. _

I sat in defeated silence, watching the trees gleaming in the moonlight. Perhaps a little bit of money had made me woolly in the head and I had deluded myself into thinking that I could be _hired_. Maybe I should take up Cara on her offer for a place at the 'Paradise'…

"Couldn't find someone who would hire _you_…" I heard that unpleasant, snakelike whisper near me but I did not look up. I had condemned myself and Isa to more hunger_. If I hadn't lost the money… I could have bought us a few square meals…_

I felt him move through the grass and sneak up to sit near me on the bench. I hadn't the energy to leave. I didn't care. I had to get Isa in an hour. I wanted to wallow in self-pity for some time before that so she wouldn't see me crying.

I could hear him breathe beside me and it relaxed me a bit. He was human too.

"What's the price?" I asked him, after ten minutes. I would take his offer if it meant that I could provide for Isa. I was _seriously _contemplating Cara's proposition by this point and this would be my last shot in the dark before I gave up and moved to _'The Paradise'_. I really was defeated.

"Obedience."

I tried to pierce the darkness around me with my bare eyes. I couldn't understand what he meant.

"I'm not going to be some kinky_ plaything_ for a horny teenage, addle brain," I bit out, a little stronger than I had intended. That was it then. I suppose all my options were out.

"You speak as if I'd be _interested_ in a thing like _you_." He snorted. I cringed at the remark. I knew I was ugly but that _hurt._ _Really._ "I will offer you food, shelter and clothing and _knowledge,_ as I said before. In return, I demand your obedience and loyalty."

"To what _end_?" I found myself wondering why the soft moonlight that shone on the boy's face made him look… inhuman.

"Nothing… _unsavoury,_ I assure you." I felt a shudder run through my spine as I felt his eyes rake over my famished figure in disdain. I believed him this once. _Who was this strange boy? And what use would my loyalty and obedience be to him?_

But his offer was tempting. At this point in my existence, I was willing to do almost anything to gain the three things he offered. But wait… there was another thing.

_Knowledge?_

It piqued my curiosity and before I could stop myself, I said,

"I have a little girl who lives with me. I will not leave her."

I had turned to look at him by now. His shoulders had gone taut, in tension or something else, I did not know. His face was an eerie blank mask and I felt distinctly uncomfortable. But I pushed it away. It had to be done. His offer was too tempting.

"Very well," he said after a long, agonising silence in which I waited for his answer with bated breath. I could smell him now. He smelled of… water and grass.

_How strange. _

"Be warned though, any diversions from strict obedience would entail _repercussions…_" he said in a soft, menacing voice and I found myself staring warily at his face once again for some sign of emotion. There was none.

"Deal.''

As I heard myself utter those forbidden words, his eyes glittered and I couldn't help shake the feeling that I had only just sold my soul to the devil.

* * *

Isa was asleep in my arms as I followed the strange boy through winding alleyways. His name was Tom, he had said. I was still cautious as I walked a few steps behind him, making sure to not get caught in a trap unaware. I was ready to flee at a moment's notice. But I need not have worried. Fifteen minutes of walk later, I found him move furtively through the back door of a large building and I wondered where we were. I glanced around, through the obviously unkempt garden at the parapet surrounding the building. All the lights were out.

As I moved past a tree, I caught sight of a banner hanging overhead. That was when it hit me.

"You live in an _orphanage!_" I hissed at him, wondering why he had led me on. No orphanage would take us. I knew because I had tried to get Isabella into one so that she could have some stability in her life at the very least. _The fucking bastard. _

_Obedience._

_Loyalty._

_As if…_

He stopped abruptly at my words and I almost jumped when a strong hand clamped down on my mouth, holding my jaw tightly so that I couldn't make a single sound.

I was afraid.

And with Isa slumbering blissfully in my arms, I couldn't cause him much damage.

_What had I gotten us into?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"_Keep quiet_," he hissed in my ear. The slight rustle of wind caught my attention. It was like a whisper in my head of things ominous and outside my control. "We have an agreement. It doesn't matter where I live as long as the terms of arrangement are honoured. Now, if you keep your mouth shut, I will take care of it."

I relaxed a bit, shifting my weight as I did and nodded. His sweaty hand was still clamped upon my mouth. I removed it with my free hand.

He let go.

I was still wary though.

He lived in an orphanage.

That had to mean he was one too.

_Probably._

He motioned for me to follow behind him and I did. The dull paint gracing the exterior of the building was chapped and discoloured. As we climbed the stairs, I noted two boys standing near the gates. From what I could make out of their faces, they were definitely drugged. One of them held a lit cigarette in his hand while the other seemed to be leering rather unpleasantly at some torn out magazine.

"You're standing in my way, Nicholas." The boy, _Tom_, halted when we reached the two others. I believe they lived there and were acquainted with him. His statement was ridiculous though. They weren't blocking the path. We could easily pass them by and enter the premises. I stooped though since I was pretty much unfamiliar with the surroundings and did not really know what to make of this stranger. Isabella coughed in my arms and I patted her back absently.

Thankfully, she hadn't woken up.

"Riddle," the older boy, somewhere around sixteen I would guess, addressed the stranger before me and caught the other lad's hand. His face seemed to have grown tighter around the muscles and within seconds he, along with his friend, edged away from the entrance.

I did not know what to make of it.

Riddle.

An odd last name.

_But what did I know?_

I had no surname.

The interior was dreary and rundown. There were very few odd pieces of furniture lining the corridors and the walls were bare. We walked for about a minute before he came to a stop outside a grey door.

He knocked thrice.

Three times the sound echoed in the empty corridor.

A muffled female voice muttered something I couldn't quite catch but it didn't really matter. Tom pushed the door open and I entered behind him.

"Ah, Tom." The lady sounded rather jubilant and I couldn't understand what she was so happy about. She was middle-aged, slightly on the plump side of affairs and seemed to have an overlarge head. She was pretty though.

Tom, the strange boy, addressed her politely. All this time, his back was to me. "These are the two people I spoke to you about, Mrs. Stenner."

A strange uncertainty, a callous wretchedness travelled all over me as her eyes shifted to me and I felt them rake all over my tattered clothes and soiled skin.

She didn't seem to be bothered by it though.

"Yes, of course," she said and motioned for me to sit in one of the chairs. I glanced at Tom for a second and complied. "What's your name, my dear?"

The kindness in her voice was unnerving. Her eyes, too, seemed a bit glazed.

She felt inhuman.

And yet, there was nothing wrong about her.

"Marina," the boy, Tom, supplied before I could open my mouth. My head snapped to his face.

_Why had he lied?_

"No, I'm Hermione and this is Isabella," I replied, fuming within.

Mrs. Stenner's smile seemed to grow wider around the edges.

"Marina. It is a beautiful name. And, Isabella too."

She drew out a few papers from her drawer and skimmed through them as I stared at her.

Baffled.

_What the hell was wrong with her?_

For some stupid reason, I felt like she hadn't even heard me.

For some horrible reason, I wasn't even sure if she knew I was there.

"It's _Hermione_, Ma'am," I asserted again. She had begun to scribble something on one of the papers.

Again, she ignored me.

Suddenly, I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder.

It was a warning.

I clenched my fist and closed my mouth. I don't know why I did it. Perhaps I was afraid that I would be turned out of this place like a dog if I protested too much. Isabella whimpered in my arms. I could feel them going stiff.

"Very well. All has been taken care of. Now, Tom, if you would be so kind as to escort them to their rooms…" She pushed away the paperwork and smiled inanely at the boy who stood beside me.

_What the hell?_

She wasn't going to question me.

She wasn't going to humiliate me on how street rats like me deserved to live in the gutters.

She seemed not to even notice that I was there.

Well, _almost_.

I guess it was not the time to think over such things.

We had shelter.

I suppose I should have been happy.

The distinct click of the door lock opening brought me back to the world and I muttered a small '_Thank You'_ before I moved out of there. The woman waved it away.

Meanwhile, Isabella had woken up.

"Mione, where are we?" she asked in a sleepy voice as she looked around the dimly lit corridor and rubbed her eyes with her tiny fists. I put her down. My arm was stiff.

"A new home," I said as soon as the door shut behind us and I stood outside.

"Where are we going?" I asked the boy who had taken off in another direction.

My head buzzed with questions but I supposed they would have to wait for some time. Isabella's small footsteps caused me to slow down but she was trying her best to keep up. I believe she had questions as well but she was perceptive enough to keep her mouth shut for now. She was a very smart girl.

"The girl will lodge with the other kids on the ground floor while you will be upstairs," he spoke. I noticed a few doors with scratches on them. There were others which had been drawn upon with crayons. A slight smile crept upon my face as I remembered Isa trying to do the same on the floor with charcoals.

She would no longer go hungry.

After turning twice, we stopped in front of another door. It was broken. The hinges were coming off and plaster was splayed all over the threshold.

There were five beds inside. Four of them were occupied with slumbering children. There were two study tables as well. And five different cupboards. I looked down when I felt Isa's tiny hand press into mine.

"She can take that one. I'll wait outside. _Be quick_." He pointed to the last one, turned on his feet and left. I stared after him for a second but shook my puzzlement away. The mattress was squelched and the cover looked dirty but it was luxury compared to what we were used to.

I bent down and gazed into Isabella's widened eyes. She was trying her best to not cry, it seemed.

"You'll be fine her, Isa. You have a bed all to yourself and roommates." I kissed her on her forehead and picked her up. I took her to the small bed and sat down on it.

"Why can't I say with you?"

I suppose her question was valid. I wouldn't mind sharing with her. But I had to know the rules of this establishment before I could take liberties.

"I'll try, okay. You have nothing to be scared of. I'm going to be living here too." I drew her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. My heart was choked with emotion as well, and to be honest, it was rather foolish.

We were safer here than we had been in a long time.

"She can take my Mister Pony to bed if she's afraid. He's very strong," a thin voice from the nearby bed commented. I looked up to see a brunette boy peep at us shyly from under the blanket.

An unwilling smile crossed my lips.

Bella would be just fine.

* * *

"My name is Hermione. Why would you call me Marina? And what was wrong with the warden downstairs?" I asked him carefully as we climbed the stairs.

Everything was so bleak and dreary on this landing. The floor was unswept, the glasses broken and most of the doors were locked.

It did not seem like people frequented this area.

He said nothing as he unbolted another grey door. I noticed how there were a few dents in its surface.

There was only one bed in this room.

_Was this to be mine?_

There was a cupboard and a chair.

A dirty window graced one wall.

He hadn't answered me yet.

I noted a painting, old and faded, hanging near the door.

_Aesthetics._

I touched its surface. Most of the paint was buried under thick dust and my dirty hands gathered more of their kin when they ran over it.

"We had an agreement, had we not?" His voice, a whispered hiss, caused me to jump and my back hit the wall as I turned to face him.

Agreement.

_Did I have to honour it now?_

This boy was decidedly strange but did he have enough leverage to throw me out now that I was formally in?

"I don't have to do as you say," I said and pursed my lips. "Why did you lie about my name?"

"Good practice for future," he commented dryly.

I raised my head and examined his chiselled skin.

Beauty such as his was surreal. It shouldn't exist.

"What do you want from me?"

"I thought my wishes were apparent enough." He arched his eyebrow at me. "I give you the basic necessities with _knowledge_ while you obey my every command. Your little assertion downstairs, however, was rather _disobedient._"

We stared at each other for a few seconds before I pushed him away and went to sit in the dirty chair.

"You're not the one giving me basic _necessities_ in this case. So _technically_, I don't have to honour the stupid terms."

I watched his face for any change.

To be honest, this stranger unnerved me.

He wasn't like others who threatened and exercised physical violence over me.

No, I was too strong to be even bothered by such types.

But this boy…

His face was blank for a few seconds.

His eyes reflected nothing.

Then, a cruel smile twisted on his face. It unfolded like a piece of thin metal wire that is reluctant to unbend but is too malleable to resist.

"You're too _naive_ if you think that I cannot take it all back. Tell me, _Hermione_, would you like to be back on the streets with you _precious_ Isa? I, for one, wouldn't mind watching the wolves gnaw at pieces of your broken bones."

The manner in which he uttered his words, the soft slipperiness of his voice and the calmness of his tone…

Could he take it all back though?

I wouldn't care if it was simply about me but Isa…

I watched as his fingers tapped the wall behind him absently.

"What do you want me to do?''

I think I saw satisfaction trickle down his silver orbs.

He had won this round.

_For now._

"You'll know soon enough," he replied and made to leave, stopping only when he had turned the door knob. "By the way, if you _need_ anything, don't _hesitate_ to ask. My room is just across yours."

The Cheshire grin on his face had red flags all over it.

I think things were deeper and darker than I could imagine.

* * *

"Here." Another dish was pushed into the sink and I sighed. My hands were already red with scrubbing. God knew when the pile of unending menial work would finish.

I was on kitchen duty today.

It was my third day here at the orphanage. So far, I think it was a vast improvement over living in the dark streets. There were around fifty people residing in this building. We were all allocated works on a cyclic basis. I hadn't made many friends yet owing to the simple fact that my room lay on the floor no one really visited. I had spent most of my time with Isabella who, I was happy to see, had adapted quickly to the change. There was quite a lot going on most of the times and a few talks I had had with the girls around me had been rather uninformative. The older residents kept their mouths shut and the young ones were mostly unaware.

But I had heard of how no one really liked the boy who lived on the same floor as I did.

I overheard a girl, about twelve; mention to her confidante how she had been instructed to clean the corridors and how she wished that he would be out.

_He_ was definitely Tom.

I hadn't seen him in the last two days.

That was good.

Perhaps he had forgotten all about the stupid arrangement.

"Be quicker, Marina. Any slower and I'd have to report you," a snide voice commented from behind me and I gritted my teeth. It was Gretchen. She was rather awful. I absolutely disliked her.

She was the proprietor's daughter. I wasn't sure if I was in a position to answer back yet. They might just throw me out. I didn't even know why I had been accepted in the first place.

I was walking on egg shells here.

"Why don't you _show_ it to her then, Gretchen?"

Tom.

_Really now._

I looked to see him standing near the counter. I think I saw Gretchen pale a bit when he moved over to her.

Interesting.

It seemed like she did not like him either.

"M-Me, Riddle?"

"Yes." He rubbed his hands together and looked at me. "I need her for something. Why don't you be a doll and finish it for her."

I noticed how he always kept his hands in pockets.

It was as if he was hiding something.

Something dark and sinister.

Gretchen seemed to hesitate for a bit as I watched the unfolding scene out of the corner of my eye.

"It's not my work," she finally protested. I sighed and went back to my scrubbing. It wasn't really a loss though. Staying away from him was a good thing. I did not know why, but it was an instinct.

I usually trusted my instincts.

"You wouldn't want to _displease_ me now, Gretchen, would you?" He was threatening her.

Openly.

My eyes noted the shoes those two wore. Gretchen's legs seemed to wobble a bit as Tom's legs crossed themselves.

"Give it to me." Gretchen snatched the dishcloth roughly from my hands and pushed me to the side. I could only glare at her before Tom's voice called at me from outside.

"Come on, then. There's other work to be done."

I did not miss the shaking hands with which Gretchen turned on the tap.

I did not miss her widened eyes as I turned away, leaving the cramped kitchen to follow _His Highness._

* * *

"Tell me about your past." He tapped the floor with his shoes. We were in my room again.

He was seated in the chair which I had so painstakingly cleaned while I sat on the dirty, bed bug filled mattress.

"Why?'' I crossed my arms.

I did not like associating with him.

And I would do all in my power to thwart his efforts.

"Obedience, _Marina_, is a quality that seems to elude you perfectly," he remarked lightly and folded a strange piece of paper in his hands. "What do you know of your parents?"

It was a power struggle.

He wanted to know the truth about me while I… wanted nothing to do with him.

I knew nothing of my parents.

The truth was, I _knew_ nothing.

_Did I have parents?_

It was always silence when I posed the question to myself.

Everyone else did.

Maybe I didn't.

"I don't know," I answered him absently, wondering why I even bothered.

I could see the slight smirk begin to form on his face.

_Parents?_

"What is your first memory, _Marina_…"

It was that name again.

I was Hermione.

My eyes flared in anger and I looked into his darkening silver ones.

My first memory…

I closed my eyes.

For as long as I remembered, I had lived buried in this filthy skin.

I had never been Bella's age.

A sharp sting cracked my skull open into two and I let out a faint whimper of pain as a hazy face crossed the darkened halls of my memory.

My eyes travelled to his impassive face. He was looking at me with an intense concentration on his face.

I frowned at him. "I don't have an earliest memory. And my name is _Hermione_."

Strange.

He raised and lowered his head like he was trying to do something…

Something.

"_Really?_ How do you know that? If you have _no_ recollection of who your parents were and if you have no memory of your childhood… how do you know what your name is?"

I opened my mouth to argue but shut it.

I didn't know.

But I knew I was Hermione.

No one had named me.

"I know I am Hermione."

He tilted his head to one side.

"Probably," he said and tapped his chin with his finger, staring at me as if I was a piece of puzzle he was trying to fix.

A puzzle.

I won't think about my past because my head hurt every time I tried.

Our mutual staring contest was broken by a distinct tap on the window.

_My window._

I couldn't see what it was. The window was too dirty for me to be able to see anything more than a blur. I hadn't had the time to clean it yet.

It must be some bird.

Imagine my surprise when the boy stood up and went to it. He tugged forcefully at the latch and flung the glass open.

Something brown shot through it and landed on the floor beside me.

It was an owl.

_An owl?_

What the hell?

I had never seen one before.

And yet, I knew it was an owl.

It had a piece of note stuck in its claws.

I stooped down and made to reach for the bird but _Tom_ got there first. He snatched it away from me.

I noticed how his fingers squeezing the bird drew out a painful hoot from it.

"Don't hurt it…" Those words were involuntary.

But I knew I had _meant_ them.

I looked suspiciously from the bird to Tom's face.

He, however, was unconcerned with my gaze and currently in the process of untying the small piece of… _paper?_

It was too thick and coarse to be paper.

Again, I wondered how _I_ knew of that but gave it up as another sting stabbed at my head.

I got up and latched the window shut, not wanting to invite any more wayward birds into my small room and turned to look at the boy.

_Why wouldn't he just leave me be?_

He was reading the small note with a scowl on his face.

So he _had_ been expecting it.

The bird… was a _messenger?_

I had never heard of owls travelling by daylight or delivering notes.

"Why is an owl delivering notes to you? Did you train it?" I asked stupidly, knowing he wouldn't tell me.

He didn't seem like the kind of person who shared his secrets.

He also looked like the kind of person who was too cunning for his own good.

I wished that he would leave.

Like I had known, he did not answer. Instead, he looked up from reading and there was this odd glint in his eye that made me feel…

"I think it's time for your training to begin." He crumpled the paper in his hand and let go of the owl. The bird, seeing no escape, fluttered its wings and flew to sit on the fan.

I thought owls couldn't see in daylight.

I must have been mistaken.

"What training?" Was this the stupid _knowledge_ he had talked about?

"You'll see. You are in my servility now, _Marina,_ and you would do well to remember that. The repercussions would not be to your liking."

"Only cowards make threats," I bit out and crossed my hands once more.

If he didn't leave soon, I might just be forced to kick him in the crotch and bang his head against the wall.

I don't know why his presence irked me so much.

I think my bones chilled when I saw his body go rigid.

Silently, he raised his arm and pointed it at the bird who hooted peacefully in its temporary abode.

I don't know what happened next.

There was this loud thump of something heavy with flesh hitting the bare wooden floor underneath.

I think I saw a red blur.

The bird was slashed and the blood trickled silently from its wounds.

_A steady drip._

I felt nauseous.

The flow was steady.

Dripping.

Constantly.

"You should treat your words with caution, _Hermione._" His voice was steady and cold. "I will return in an hour."

I don't think I noticed him leave.

I stayed transfixed as I gazed at the lifeless form lying before me.

_What had happened?_

I looked upwards, wondering if the fan had somehow ripped the bird open.

But there was no blood up there.

It wasn't possible.

The sight of it made me want to throw up.

I closed my eyes.

_Had he done it?_

_If so, how?_


End file.
